


cut off the head, two grow back

by heythereghosts



Category: Hotel Artemis (2018)
Genre: Acapulco's Stream Of Conscious, Character Study, Drabble, Not really though, One Shot, Vignette, i wrote this at 5 am whoops, lmao i dont know what to tag this as, sorta acapulco/wolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 13:57:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heythereghosts/pseuds/heythereghosts
Summary: Acapulco runs from a pack of wolves and thinks about past relationships.





	cut off the head, two grow back

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry it's so short I wrote this at like 5 am instead of sleeping.
> 
> This is my first fic btw!!! Sorry if it's not properly tagged I don't know like, proper Tagging Rules.

He’s running, mind racing, footsteps hot and heavy against cracked pavement, gravel, fence. Shouting and shots raging behind him like a symphony, he doesn’t stop to check, he just keeps on moving.   
  
He stops by sunrise, bones and muscles aching and spazzing, knees weak like jelly. He’s trying to catch his breath, wheezing and coughing. One two one two, slow and steady, that’s it. His right eye is fucked up, he doesn’t remember how. All he knows is that there was a flash of claws and now it’s throbbing and bleeding and everything is blurry and _fuck_ he should really clean it before it gets infected.   
  
God dammit, why did he have to take that deal. He knew he was pushing his luck and he _knew_ he was biting off more than he could chew and yet he still took it. What was he even thinking? That if he got away with it that he would somehow prove himself? That he could outsmart the fucking _Wolf King?_ No, not Wolf King- Niagara. Not going to call him by his fucking made up fairytale nickname. Honestly, what was he? A fucking villain from Peter Pan?   
  
No, that wasn’t the Niagara he used to know. The Niagara he knew was smooth but powerful- like a waterfall- didn’t hide behind a toothy grin and gaudy aviator shades. No, the Wolf King is not Niagara, the Wolf King is a man who, after cutting the head off the monarchy, dubbed _himself_ king and proceeds to sit on his plush gold throne. The Wolf King is a man who is anything but a waterfall. The Wolf King is a volcano, a tower.   
  
He’s a man playing god. He thinks that just because he’s all mighty and powerful that he has everyone wrapped around his finger. That no one _stupid_ enough would ever try and overthrow him, and even if they did, they know they wouldn’t succeed. But the thing is, this mindset of his, this, this _trust_ he has, is going to be his inevitable downfall, because you see, in this position.   
  
A trusting king, is a dead king.


End file.
